


Disintegrated Dreams

by MoonlightSalsa



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Aftermath of Battles, Gen, Graphic Description of Corpses, Grief (kinda), battles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:32:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27030493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightSalsa/pseuds/MoonlightSalsa
Summary: In the aftermath of an air battle, three kids on Tatooine make a grisly discovery.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Disintegrated Dreams

It's not every day you come across the aftermath of a dogfight. That's why we ventured out to explore - me and Lyssa and Lyssa’s friend Serra, who gets dropped off at our place to be babysat every weekday. We didn't tell Mother where we were going; we knew she'd freak out about our safety and try to prevent us from heading out. So instead, I told her I was taking the girls out for a walk. Simple as that. 

Last night had been pretty eventful, to say the least. Around midnight, we woke up to the roar of ships overhead, followed by those familiar whines of TIE fighters, which was then followed by blaster fire. 

We don't see much action in this corner of Tatooine, so of course we all rushed outside to watch. It was a small group of ships, I think they may have been pirates or spice runners or maybe even Rebels, being pursued by what seemed like an entire squadron of TIEs. Laser bolts were flying everywhere, engines were screaming; it was a noisy, exciting sight. 

After a while, all three ships and several TIEs crashed to the ground, exploding into balls of flame that practically lit up the whole sky. The shockwave hit us not long after. It knocked us over, but we were far enough away that it didn't cause any real damage. Mother screamed with fright and Lyssa started crying. As Father rushed to comfort them, I kept staring out into the distance in awe. 

That was awesome! 

It was that moment that made me want to become a pilot. I wanted to soar proudly through the skies, taking down bad guys left and right in the flames of awesomeness, then fly away with the fire burning behind me; another mission successfully completed. I wanted so desperately, right then and there, to be that cool. 

Father saw the look in my eyes and tutted. “That sort of thing will only bring you trouble, boy,” he said. “The Empire ain’t something to mess around with.” He gestured towards the fires, still burning brightly. “You think those guys enjoyed what just happened?” 

I shrugged him off then, and didn't really give his words any real consideration until the next day, when I took the girls out to go exploring. 

We packed our sun protection oil, water and sandwiches in my pack. We also brought along a couple of old buckets, in case we found anything worth keeping, and off we went. 

Lyssa and Serra chatted the whole way about the typical sort of stuff that five-year-olds do, but I was busy thinking about what sort of treasures I could unearth. Tools, spare parts, maybe some kind of spice too, if those other ships were indeed spice runners… 

We followed the thin plumes of smoke in the horizon until we reached their source. The area was just outside the perimeter of the Millinsh’s property. There was no one else around. 

Immediately we began searching around. The air was hazy with smoke and there were several small fires still burning away. Much of the wreckage was badly scorched, but there was still treasure lying around. I picked up a few small ship parts that had survived relatively unscathed and put them in my bucket. 

Serra found a handful of credits in what must have been some sort of lockbox. She wouldn't share. She said that she found them, so that meant they're hers. I told her that I would pinch her if she didn't give me some. She relented pretty quickly. 

I uncovered part of a hyperdrive engine. It was too big and too badly damaged to be salvageable, but I still stood and admired it for a few moments, running my hand along it, wondering what other systems the engine could have taken its owners to. What kind of adventures they could have had. Certainly more exciting than this stupid planet. 

But it was Lyssa who found that thing. We couldn't quite bear to refer to it as what it actually was. 

She called me over. When I went over to her, she pointed at something on the ground and asked if I knew what it was. 

It didn't click right away. It was some kind of vaguely cylindrical-shaped object, with some weird protrusions on one end. It was badly burned, all red and black and very sooty, and covered in some kind of cloth with holes burned all through it. It gave off a bizarre odour, a kind of cooked meat smell… 

And then I realised what we were looking at. 

An arm. A human fucking arm. 

Lyssa seemed to realise it too. She screamed and vomited onto the sand. Serra was still confused. She wouldn't stop shouting, “What is it? I don't get it! What is it?” 

Her voice grated on my brain, already on the verge of wanting to vomit as well, and I snapped at her, “It's a fucking arm, Serra!” 

Then Serra started screaming as well. 

They kept at it until they wore their voices out. At that point, they were just reduced to sniffling and whimpering. 

I was horrified. I couldn't believe that we'd found an actual dismembered body part. We hadn't found any other human remains other than that arm, so that meant that the rest of the bodies must have disintegrated somehow. I didn't even know that level of destruction could be inflicted on someone’s body. 

Then I wondered about who the arm had belonged to. How long had they survived after the crash? Long enough to know what had happened? Did they ever think that they would die in such a way, that only their arm remained? 

It was at that moment that my short-lived dream of becoming a pilot was killed stone-dead, never to be reborn. 

And then I just felt sad. 

The person once attached to this arm was just that, a person. They probably had hopes and dreams too. Maybe it was their life-long dream to become a pilot. Maybe they wanted to explore, or smuggle spice, or fight for the galaxy, or whatever. 

Now though, nothing remained of those dreams except for all the wreckage surrounding us. 

My father’s words from last night came to mind. 

_“You think those guys enjoyed what just happened?”_

No. I don't think they did. 

“Can we go now?” Lyssa asked quietly. Serra nodded her agreement. 

I nodded too. 

“Yes. Alright.” 

We turned around to leave. I gave one last look at the arm and paused. It didn't feel right to just leave it there, amidst all the destruction. Who would want someplace like that to be their final resting place? 

I don't know exactly why I was feeling so sentimental all of a sudden; I guess I was just so overcome by a sense of guilt about this whole thing. How could I have ever idolized this? How could I have ever thought it was cool? 

I walked back over to the arm and carefully scooped it with my bucket. Lyssa and Serra looked confused, but didn't say anything. 

Then we started our long trek back home. 

As the outlines of our buildings came into view, I said to the girls, “Not a word about this to anybody, okay?” 

They nodded stiffly. 

I went around to the side of the garage where it was cool and shaded. There, as Lyssa and Serra watched on silently, I dug a shallow hole in the sand with my hands. When I was done, I tipped the bucket just enough to slide the arm into the hole without having to touch it. I buried it and marked the tiny grave with a small, pointed rock. 

I sat back on my haunches and stared at it for a long while. I still felt sad, like I was mourning a family member instead of some random pilot who, for all I knew, may not have even been that great of a person. 

But what's done is done, I suppose. 

I got up and took the girls back inside. Mother asked why they looked like they'd been crying. I told her that they were just tired. She believed me. 

I surreptitiously left the ship parts I'd found on my father’s workbench, pretending like they'd been there all along. I spent my share of the credits we'd discovered on a new pair of thick work socks. Serra spent hers on candy and shared it with Lyssa. 

We never spoke of that day again.


End file.
